The Ceñtæ qüe Mäjęćk

The next day was a blur of wedding preparations, which made it impossible for Dantaus to get away. I had to spend the day with Finneaus, as he forced me to try and perfect my silly princess skills.

"Okay, play it again." he ordered me, and I began to strum the first few chords of Princess Amalia, a stupid song about a girl who never wedded because of her awful temper. I thought my awful playing was an excellent reflection of the Princess's behavior, but I guess Finneaus did not agree, snapping at me every time I stumbled, which was pretty much every other chord.

When he finally gave up on that, telling me that we'd continue lute lessons as the last lesson of the day, he then ordered me to go and fetch some books for poise. I comply, softly singing the princess song underneath my breath.

When I come back with an armful of books, Finneaus looks a bit pensive, but seeing me, he suddenly smiles, a rare occurrence for him.

"I hope that you master these skills before you leave. That would certainly please King Leopold, would it not? You got the letter, I presume?" My good mood instantly evaporated.

"Yes." I replied dully. "I got the letter."

"All of your training has led to this moment." Finneaus rubbed his hands together excitedly, caught up in the thought. "That's why we've had all the testing; to finalize and perfect your skill set. Are you not excited?"

"Yeah." I replied despondently, and he continued to chatter about the wonders of marriage and whatnot, oblivious to my depression. I stood, holding the books for uncomfortably long, until he finally concludes his speech, saying, "Well, enough of that. You'll experience all of it soon enough. Let's move onto posture." I force a smile and step forward so he can place the books on top of my head, then begin the lessons.

For the last lesson, I wearily pick up my lute, but Finneaus stops me, his expression kind.

"Go. You've made good progress, save for your dancing." he frowns. "I'm not entirely convinced that all that toe-stepping was an accident; it seems physically impossible." Pause. "Oh, well. Go on. We might make a queen out of you yet."

The word 'queen' triggers a reaction, and I'm suddenly fighting tears as I stand and hastily head for the door. Before leaving, I glance back at Finneaus, and I stop, shocked to see a look of great sadness. Then I blink, for the distraught look is instantly replaced by a happy expression, as he smiles at me yet again.

Reaching my bedroom, I run in and slam the door behind me, then collapse on the bed to have a good cry. Curled in a fetal position, I hug my pillow and soak it with my tears, unable to stop thoughts like, You're going to die, You'll be married to a fat selfish pig, from running through my head. When my tear ducts stop running, I sniffle and sit up, then pull out the picture book Dantaus gave me from under the mattress.

Flipping through the pages, I stop at the last story in the book: Sir Peter and the Trolls.

It's my favorite story. Sir Peter is a knight who is called upon to help a town who is terrorized by trolls. In the end, Sir Peter finds out that the trolls were not harming the people at all, but, in fact, stealing only what they needed to survive because all of their food was stolen from them by some greedy bandits.

Sir Peter helps the trolls recover their lost supplies, solving the solution without killing any of the trolls. I hate stories where a dragon or troll is slain, merely because they scare the villagers with their presence. It's stupid and senseless to kill an innocent creature, without even trying to find out the whole story. I couldn't even dream of killing anybody.

Finishing the tale, I reached the back cover of the book. The front cover is a mix of wonderfully detailed pictures, with FAIRY TALES written in fancy gold script, while the back is a continuation of the painting on the front. On the inside part of the covers, pieces of thick, yellow parchment cover the inside part, to prevent the cover from falling apart or something. Frowning slightly, I noticed the paper was peeling back about an inch. I didn't want the whole thing to fall apart, so I fetched a small bottle of a stick solution, a substance sticky enough to make things stick together.

Using the small brush, I applied a streak of the gluey substance on the corner, then lifted the brush. To my dismay, the brush was stuck to the paper, and the parchment tore halfway off the cover.

Growling with frustration, I shoved the book aside on my desk, angry and upset, but then noticed something. The thick parchment was glued to only the sides of the hard cover, and the cover was actually a very shallow box. Sitting in the box was a very old piece of paper, torn at the edges, yellowish hue, and faded lettering.

Wildly curious, I picked the paper carefully and studied the words. It was completely foreign, like it was an entirely different language than Myalyia, the language used by Islan and most kingdoms. At least the kingdoms I had heard of.

There was no way to even know what they meant, much less how to say them, except for the small lettering below the symbols. Squinting at the tiny letters, I was overjoyed to recognize it was in my language, and that it was a pronunciation guide, like in a dictionary. I focused on the sounds spelled out in the pronunciation guide, and began to read, slowly but surely.

"Tåpk awt ye.....ceñtæ qüe.....mäjęćk." I read slowly and carefully, then pursed my lips. "Hm. I guess it-" Suddenly, I was enveloped in a whirlwind of a sparkly, shiny, glossy, and blue liquid type of substance, that swirled around me with terrifying speed. My stomach dropped to my feet, and I felt violently ill. Seconds later, the cloud was gone, and someone shoved a bucket in my hands. I vomited several times, feeling airsick, seasick, and nauseated, all at the same time.

When my stomach stopped rebelling, I wobbled slightly on my feet before finally looking up.

"Are you done?" my head quickly turned to look at the source of the voice, seeing a middle aged woman, frowning at me, with a greying bun, cold grey eyes, and crossed arms. She was dressed in a simple dress that hung loosely on her tall, stick thin, stooped figure, and she was wearing a pair of spectacles.

"What?" I croaked weakly, and she raised her eyes to the sky.

"Every time." she mutters, and snatches the bucket from my hands, then hands it to a nearby boy, dressed in brown. "Follow me." she orders me shortly, then sets off at a brisk pace. I stumble unsteadily behind her for a moment, then slowly regain my senses and walk normally for a few feet before stopping completely.

Staring around me, I discovered that I was in a grand hallway, higher and wider than any hallway I had ever seen, with marble pillars lining the sides and beautiful patterns on the walls. At the end of the huge corridor, the woman stood in the middle of a large arched entryway, leading into an unknown place, with an unknown situation, with unknown people, and with some unknown adventure.

"Well?" the lady tapped her foot. "Are you coming?" I was silent.

"Curse your curiosity." I told myself angrily to, then started walking, calling out to the strange woman.

"Yes. I'm coming."

I was led to a smaller room, where the woman then turned heel and left me there without saying a word. I sat down in one of the small seats, and sat there, nervous and confused. Jumping suddenly, I spotted the biggest man I had ever seen, sitting behind a desk, writing something. Heavily muscled, he looked ridiculous in his suit, and his wild, thick, black hair hung to his shoulders. Squeezed in behind the tiny desk, he looked awfully uncomfortable, but continued writing, ignoring me. I sat on the chair for a minute, dangling my feet, before I finally summoned the courage to speak up.

"Um, excuse me?" I ask tentatively, but I get no answer. "Excuse me!" This time, his head turns, and he looks at me. "Uh, yeah, hi! I was wondering...what is this place....and stuff...." I trail off uncertainly, and he points behind him, towards another door.

"Oh! Thank you!" I tell him hurriedly, and stand. Brushing off my simple gown and brushing back a strand of hair, I stride to the door, turn the knob, and walk in.

Inside the room, there is another desk, with another woman sitting behind it. She instantly stood when I entered.

"Welcome, have a seat." she tells me, and snaps her fingers. A chair appears in front of her desk out of thin air, and she gestures for me to sit. I comply with her suggestion, now numb to everything and willing to just follow along.

The woman is dressed in a flowery, knee-length skirt with high heels, and a long sleeved white shirt with a tight bodice that showed off her figure and wide, flowing, loose sleeves that closed around her wrists. Her long blonde hair was tied up in a high ponytail, and it swished happily as the woman extended her hand for a handshake. I took it, and she smiled as she shook my hand.

"Well, let's get started." she sat back down, and I followed suit. I watched as she pulled out a big box, and started to pull stuff out.

"First, your book of spells." she pulls out a huge, thick, book, and hands it to me. Confused, I take it. "Here's your bag and cloak." I take the offered black drawstring bag with a golden string and the dark purple cloak. "Lastly, your piquä." She pulls out a beautiful necklace, with a gorgeous spherical pendant. The charm is golden, with a tiny silver door on the ball. Enchanted, I inspect it, and even open the tiny little door a few times before putting it around my neck.

"It should register your wayña in a few moments." she tells me. Before, I had felt so lost with all of the confusing events that I had been unable to utter any inquires, but my brain finally caught up with me, and questions bubbled up inside at an alarming rate. Finally, I exploded.

Who are you? What is this place? What was that blue cloud? How did I get here? Why is the receptionist guy so huge? What's with all this stuff you're giving me? What's a piquä? What's a wayña? How will I get home? Why-" the flood of questions stopped when the woman raised her hands in a halting gesture. She looks worried.

"First question, I'm Polaria." she answers. "As for the other questions, please forgive me for answering a question with a question, but didn't you read the briefing page?"

"Briefing page?" I rack my brains, then remember the paper hidden in the fairy tales book. "Oh, the one I found hidden in the back cover of my book! It said something in a weird language....takey yo......something, something...." Polaria shakes her head.

"No, no. The paper you're talking about says, 'Tåpk awt ye ceñtæ qüe mäjęćk.' It's in the ancient language, and roughly translates to 'Take me to the Center of Magic,' and is actually a spell that transports you in the form of a blue cloud. You should've gotten another paper, your instruction paper, the one that tells you what you have discovered." she explains.

"Nope, never got one." I admitted.

"Oh, dear." she sighs. "This happens sometimes. Let me fill you in. This place is called the Ceñtæ qüe Mäjęćk. That's the Center of Magic in the ancient language. Those who are lucky and smart enough to find this place are honored with the training to become a magic holder."

"A......what?"

"A magic holder. For example, a witch, or a sorcerer, sorceress, wizard, or even a MBC-that stands for Mythical Being Caretaker. Magic holders are expected to help in the well-being of the universe as a whole. Do you understand?"

"Yes.....no.....maybe." I massage my temples. "I think I'm going to be sick again." She laughs.

"I know, it's all a little overwhelming at first. But don't worry, you'll get the hang of it." Pressing her palms together, she holds them in front of her face and closes her eyes. Then she opens them, and parts her hands. In the space between her palms, and fist-sized bubble appears. She looks intently into the seemingly see-through sphere, furrowing her brow. Suddenly, it clears.

"Here you are! Avaline....no surname......what's this?" her brow furrows again. "Oh, dear. You're the Princess of Islan, aren't you?" She looks at me, looking for confirmation, anxiety all over her face. I slowly nod.

"Yes, I am." I tell her hesitantly. "Why?"

"Oh, this is bad. This is very, very bad." Polaria waves the bubble aside and stands up. "Carl!" the door opens wide, and the massive secretary squeezes into the room.

"I'm so very sorry, Avaline." she tells me quickly, taking back my cloak, bag, and book. "Princesses cannot be magic holders. It just isn't done. Princesses are much to important to be a secretive magic holder, and I'm afraid that you cannot be a magic holder. Carl here will escort you back, then make you forget everything and send you home. I am so very terribly sorry." Carl grips my forearm and begins to half-drag me out the door, and I become panicky.

"Wait! I want to be a magic holder! I discovered the spell, remember? You can't just take it away!" I feel the opportunity of a lifetime slipping through my fingers.

"I can and will." she replies shortly, and I dig my heels into the ground and grab the doorway with my free arm. Annoyed, Polaria marches over to help Carl.

"Really, Avaline, if you can't-" she stops suddenly, staring at my neck. I follow her gaze, and look at the necklace, and jump to see that the pendant is glowing.

Author's Note

AND SO IT BEGINS!!:)